This fucking shirt. Honestly I don’t know if I hate this shirt so much because it makes me feel terrible about myself or because it exposes how much of a dysfunctional mess I actually am. For some reason I committed to having a shirt I could tuck in, despite how much I hate tucking shirts in. Why not just get it altered to a flat bottom hem then? Because I wanted it for this work party tonight and a flat bottom hem wouldn’t go with the theme. Plus it’s a nice shirt that could be a wedding/job interview shirt. Does this mean I may need to get a functionally identical shirt that gets altered to a flat bottom hem? Much as I dread it, the answer may correlate to how much I hate myself (which fluctuates depending on how heavily shirts are featuring in my life at that moment).
It’s dawning on me that while I’m not entirely an idiot, I might be functionally incompetent. Every interaction I have with this shirt makes the fact that I haven’t won a Darwin Award more miraculous with each passing day. Getting the shirt back from the alterations place, it still didn’t look like I wanted it to. Maybe because shirts just don’t look how I want them to when they’re tucked in. So far today, things have not worked out. Here’s what I needed to do in order to get the best possible result:
Here’s what I did instead: I looked at the shirt and saw a few mild creases. Hmmm I thought like a dummy I know it’s a non-iron shirt, but I’d rather it wasn’t creased. How did I resolve to fix this? By ironing the shirt of course. I hate ironing. I hate ironing so very very much. Not quite as much, but not far off my hatred of shirt shopping. A quick search tells me that 9 of my entries so far have involved ironing in some fashion. I’m willing to bet that 9/9 entries aren’t enamoured with it. SO WHY WOULD I OPT TO IRON THIS FUCKING SHIRT? Because I’m an unrepentant dolt.
So I brought the ironing board out and set up the iron. I realised the water in the iron was likely stagnant and potentially poisonous, so I changed it out. It’s the one smart thing I’ve done so far. I set the iron to a low heat, because having had the shirt altered I was afraid heat-shrinking would ruin the alterations. I started on the collar and things were surprisingly fine. The iron was warm enough without being searing. There was some steam coming out which would only aid my quest. Thing is, large drops of water were also coming out the bottom of the iron. The ironing board was covered in big splotches, which were bound to get the shirt way wetter than simple steam should. So now I had to wait until the ironing board was dry to iron further. Wait, maybe I could iron the ironing board to dry it. I tried. It started to work, then more wet blotches spurted out the bottom of the iron. Fuck this fucking fucker.
I tapped out. Ironing wouldn’t help me here. So what could I do? I could spray it with mist from the front of the iron and tumble dry the thing solely with air. It wouldn’t warp the fabric size, because of a lack of heat. I could pull it out, it’d be fluffy and it’d hang nicely. Brilliant (if your standards don’t extend beyond buffoonery). It came out worse than it was before I had that misguided idea to iron it in the first place. Also now it had small slightly noticeable stains on the front. Fuckitty fucksticks. So now it needed a wash. Let’s flash back to when I started and how the shirt was basically fine. I’m the problem here.
So I’ve put it in the wash with some bleach, that for all I know could destroy the structural integrity of the shirt. I’m a fucking idiot. I’ll put it on a short, light, low heat dryer cycle and see what happens. If that’s no good I might set the tap in the bathroom to its hottest, turn the light off, close the door and let the steam soak into the shirt. Why turn the light off? Because the light is linked to the fan, which will suck away all the precious steam too quickly. Then how am I supposed to get rid of wrinkles?
Keep in mind too that this is a non-iron shirt. Let that sink in. I’ve made far more obstacles and problems then ever existed in the first place. I feel like either this shirt or my sanity will be destroyed by this day’s end. Going by my track record, trying to make this shirt workable could result in the accidental demolition of this entire building.
You know what they say though, “Shirt happens”.